Back when I was moonlighting as a public servant last year, Miss E and I both worked with Sargeant Sue, the one who's lunch I chucked out and accused me of being a lesbian. The topic du jour was Childbirth, not a subject Miss E or I introduced, but once Sue got rambling there was no stopping her.

"It's all downhill after the first one," she told us sagely. "Your arse doubles in size, your skin goes to pot and the boobs start moving south!"

Miss E and I shared pained glances.

"BREASTFEEDING!" she crowed, "Now that's nasty business. Babies may look sweet and innocent, but once they latch onto your nipple, they cling on for dear life! Sucking away like a leech! The little buggers!"

We pleaded with her that we had heard enough, Miss E slid under her desk, I shoved my earphones further into my ears, but Sue would not be silenced.

"But I wisened up in time for the second baby. I was prepared. I TOUGHENED UP MY TITS!". Her voice pinged off the cubicle walls so the whole floor could hear.

"It's very simple," she explained. "Every night before bed, I'd get in front of the bathroom mirror, get out the toothbrush, and give me nipples a good scrub!"

She got out of her chair to demonstrate, pen in hand. Clothing on, thank lord. "Scrub the left! Scrub the right!" she cackled, her hands moving in circular motions like Mr Miyagi in the Karate Kid "Right circle! Left circle! Wax on! Wax off!"

"Worked like a charm," she concluded. "So with the second kid, I didn't feel a thing!"

Brushing my teeth was very traumatic for weeks after that one.